


One Night in Dalaran

by CyberpunkDragons



Category: Hearthstone - Fandom, Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Creampie, F/M, Femdom, POV First Person, Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 08:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21012437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberpunkDragons/pseuds/CyberpunkDragons
Summary: A man returns from service to find his home gone and his city unwilling to help, but luckily he finds his place in the arms of a stranger.





	One Night in Dalaran

I found myself in the opalescence, in the lost pieces of my mind as though a particle of my very being had been seized from me. It was unexpected, a strange and unsettling feeling to be so free. To be unshackled.

Home was nothing like I remembered of it. I had spent four years fighting the Horde in Kalimdor, in the scorching deserts and barren savannahs through tooth and claw at every moment. Long days, longer nights. I had put in for leave nearly every month and had been rebuffed each time, always with the excuse that they needed me – what they needed was every body they could muster to throw into the grinder. Even in the off-season when fighting slowed and armies returned to farm and hunt, even then I had been stuck watching over a unit of young boys tilling infertile soil and trying to keep them from wasting all their coin on the local brothels. It took the rainy season’s fighting in the swamps around Theramore for them to send me back, a dozen bullet wounds from those green-rat snipers had failed to put me down but a single arrow had been my end. A one armed soldier was useless and my low-born family hadn’t bribed me into being an officer.

Dalaran was colder now, the people had lost their spirit and I knew exactly why. My home had been invaded and the traitor elves had claimed a good portion for their own nefarious deeds. My house had been in the square where they now reigned at the behest of the Kirin Tor, and the mayoral office had no interest in helping. At least I had enough money to grab a drink.

My old haunt had gone, and the closest place to drink was the Legerdemain Lounge. Even that had been invaded by Horde filth, the demon-fuckers and their ilk sat side by side with Alliance sipping coffee and scoffing cheese. If any of them had seen what I had, the savagery of the beasts and the way they revelled in murdering our kind, they wouldn’t be so chummy.

As soon as I sat at the counter the bartender served me, a human woman with a warm smile and a knowing look in her eyes. I bet she saw a lot of men and women like me, though I hoped I was a rare kind of soul. She asked if I was a veteran and offered to pay for my first drink. Before I had finished my first beer a woman sat down beside me, and asked me politely what my story was – how I had lost my arm. I told her, and then offered to buy her a drink.

“Call me Elise, please.”

The way it rolled off her tongue was intoxicating, exotic and smooth, her accent held an arrogance like most of her kind and the way her silver eyes examined me was anything but piteous. Kaldorei… they had a power over me I couldn’t explain.

“Let me buy your drink,” she offered instead, “after all you’ve done for our people.”

By my third beer she leaned in to whisper to me, her lips almost grazing against my ear, “Let me repay you in private.”

Elise took me by the hand to help me to my feet, sure that I watched as she crossed the room and disappeared up the stairs in the corner. I followed as inconspicuously as I could, and found her in a room on the second floor – the door wide open, waiting for me.

As angry as I had been when I entered the lounge, the feeling upon entering her room was something else entirely. Bathed in soft light, Elise ushered the door to shut behind me with a flicker of green magic, the green became silver and her features were dreamy and nearly textureless in the dim light. Her silver eyes were the brightest things in the room, they glowed intensely from behind her glasses – she examined me intently like a huntress, without a trace of pity but deep hunger.

That was where I became unshackled, free, lost in her hands. She sat me down on the bed, guiding me down against the sheets, kissing me softly. I had worried for a moment as to how I could possibly satisfy her, but I needn’t have – she knew exactly what she wanted.

Stepping back to disrobe, she was entrancing – the way her dress flowed from her shoulders and to the floor, how it trailed down her long body and pooled around her ankles. Tall and thick hipped, her curves were full but hard with muscle – she was an athlete perhaps, or at least she had the body of one. I was struck by how she towered over me, a seductive grin on her lips as she looked me over and wondered where she would begin.

A pause, as though she were about to give me an order and then thought again – she bent down herself, her slender fingers hooking around my belt to tug at me, to unfasten my belt and wiggle my pants from my hips.

I sprung free, my underwear unable to hide me from her. Her smile said everything that needed to be said, all the plotting in her mind had to snap to fit around me. She slipped down over me, her knees burying into the bed at either side of my hips.

“Humans always surprise me with their size. You should be so much smaller, and yet,” she looked down as she took me in one hand, the other planting against my chest to push me down so I couldn’t see what she was doing.

She eased down, the hot wet folds of her pussy slipped around me. She was slow, every inch of my length stretching her, my cock titillated – the feeling of it left my body contracting as the sudden urges overcame me.

“You are close already, aren’t you?”

I grimaced, my hand clenching the sheets.

“I can tell,” she leaned in to kiss me softly, then whispered in my ear, “you’re pathetic.”

Her words took me by surprise, I lost my composure. I proved her correct. I came deep inside her, she barely had to do anything but I came harder than I had ever come. How embarrassing, I couldn’t even look her in the eye – then she took me by the chin and made me, she made me look up at her.

“Relax, we all have bad days,” her hand trailed down to caress my chest, feeling me through my shirt, imagining me rather than seeing me for herself.

“Make it up to me,” her hips started to lick against me, up and down me, her tight pussy squeezing along my cock.

She sat back, I could see all of her risen up above me in a glorious spectacle of soft light and smooth akin. She took my hand with both of hers and pressed it against her stomach, “You are so warm inside me, I want you to fill me more.”

I couldn’t feel the heat aside from her, but I could feel the way she shuddered with every stroke. I could feel the way her skin slapped against mine, how my muscles trembled trying to hold myself together as she slid along me as wet fire burning at my senses.

It was a surprise when she pushed herself off me, I had been so close, I couldn’t hold it in. She had already slipped to her knees at the edge of the bed, her face pressed against my cock, lips wrapping around my balls. Sucking me as I came, my thick load blown all over her hair. It dripped down across her face.

“What a mess,” she said between sucks, “Fuck.”

Such a harsh word…

“I need your cock so badly,” she declared, to much my complete shock, before swallowing me to the hilt.

Her throat was tighter than her pussy, I could feel myself bulging at the side of her neck. Thick ropes of my last load coated her hair, loud gags filled the room. She drew back, a trail of spit hanging from her lips as she stood. Her hands grabbed me, yanked me to my feet.

“From behind,” she ordered, “Fill me from behind.”

She pulled me into place as she climbed onto the bed, on her knees – one hand hooked into my collar so she could keep me close. She kissed me as I entered her, then she reached back to bring my hand around her and against her stomach. She had me by the throat, her body pressed into me, my cock deep inside her.

Her body ground against mine, holding me deep, her hands guiding me as I worked against her. She was soft and hard all at once, domineering in how she dragged me close and ordered me to kiss her neck – her firm muscles made me while her soft rear cushioned her thrusts. Despite the size of her our bodies fit together perfectly to the point the arch of her back was against me. Her flat stomach trembled, so smooth under my finger tips.

She moaned, “Yes! Ah, you fuck me so well.”

There it was again, that harsh word. She let go of me, bending forward, collapsing as though overcome with pleasure. The span of her back was before me, the blades of her shoulders and the contours of her backbone were shaded softly by the moonlight. Even like this she guided me, ordering me around between soft moans and quiet pants. She sternly told me, hand on the small of her back and push hard as she thrust backwards into me. I didn’t understand why, but the view of her spread before me and how I felt stopped me from asking – powerful, like a conquering king surveying his new domain.

Her thrusts became harder, her read slapping against me – bare skin, pants sliding down around my knees. She trembled, moaned, “Fuck me like a whore.”

I bit my lip, body tense, I was doing so well but the way she said that left me shaking.

“Come inside me! Seed me like the slut I am!”

Even harder, until she was bouncing against me.

“I want you inside me! I need to feel your warmth flood me!”

She gasped, panted, her words dragging as she struggled to draw in the breath it took to moan them out. Then I let slip, “You want that, slut?”

She fell silent, it grew awkward, if I wasn’t ball deep inside her I would have run. Dealing with the beasts shooting at me was one thing, this was-

“Keep talking.”

It felt so unnatural, “Of course you like being called a slut.”

She moaned loudly.

“You love my cock deep inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“You want me to fill you.”

“I do!”

“Then beg.”

She reached back to grab me by the shirt, pulling me in as she climaxed – her shaking, shuddering orgasm rocked through me and it wasn’t until I had finished that she told me, “I do not beg,” before slipping away from me, her slit dribbling my third load.

She rolled over to look up at me, her body splayed out before me as if enticing me on. I just wished I weren’t so spent, particularly so obviously.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asked, though it wasn’t quite so much a question as a demand.

I gulped, “Yes.”

“Good,” she smiled, hungry eyes drawn to my limp member, “Perhaps tomorrow you will not waste so much so quickly.”

“Sorry.”

“Do not apologise, I enjoy a man who is excitable. Do you have a bed for tonight?”

“Uh, no, my home was taken by… them.”

She patted the bed beside her, “Good, then you shall bed with me tonight. Get comfortable.”

I wiggle myself free of my shirt, suddenly left self-conscious of my scars. She said nothing as I laid down next to her. She wrapped an arm around me, it was freeing. I knew what I was here – trapped in the opalescent moonlight, the pieces of my broken mind slipping back into place. I belonged to her.


End file.
